


Princess

by lacemonster



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Crossdressing, Disney World & Disneyland, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inappropriate Erections, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 00:46:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11264493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacemonster/pseuds/lacemonster
Summary: An important duchess is celebrating her birthday at Disneyworld. Suspecting there will be an attack, the batfamily gets involved.Or: Dick and Damian go undercover as Aladdin and Jasmine, Jason dresses up as Donald Duck, and Steph is just trying to enjoy her vacation.





	Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of awful, inappropriate humor in this story, including crossdressing as a gag, sexual harassment, racial typecasting, a few body jokes, etc., so be warned. I know this story is stupid and has no class but I wrote it for fun, so if you think any of these things will offend you, please refrain from reading.
> 
> I personally headcanon that Damian gets Bruce Wayne Levels of Buff as he gets older. But for plot convenience, I made him grow up with a Talia body shape. (Look, this whole story is unrealistic, but let's just pretend it's plausible for Damian to pull off a Jasmine cosplay.)
> 
> Also I'm not a Disneyworld expert, though the personal accounts of some ex-princesses did inspire parts of this. For one, I know the costumes I describe in the story are different than the park's standards nowadays. If you're really going to factcheck me on Disneyworld knowledge, let me just roll over and concede now.
> 
> Also inb4: I really didn't want to transport the ENTIRE batfamily to Disneyworld. So if you're wondering why certain cast members are missing, just assume they're kicking butt in Gotham or are preoccupied in other parts of the world. Not that you really should be looking for plausibility in this fic anyways.
> 
> Anyways, this story is really ridiculous. But I hope people find it fun, haha.

 

 

 

“I’m not doing it.”

“You _have_ to.”

“Make Drake do it. He’s womanly enough.”

“Look, if I had a _Snow White_ costume, then sure. But I grabbed Jasmine and out of the people who can actually fit in this thing, guess who is the most Jasmine-esque—”

“ _Tt_. I saw the name on the locker room that you stole the costume from. The name was _Martinez_. I highly doubt _authenticity_ matters in this godforsaken place,” Damian said, crossing his arms stubbornly. His gaze turned from Jason to Stephanie, who had been standing nearby, looking as bored as someone could look with Mickey Mouse ears perched on their head. “I don’t get it. Just make Brown do it.”

“Buzz off. _You_ boys are the ones undercover. _I’m_ here on vacation,” Stephanie said. She stopped to take a long slurp from her souvenir cup and then continued, “ _I_ should be the one dragging Cass onto Space Mountain, not Harper and Duke. I’m only here to do Princess’ makeup and then I’m gone.”

“I am _not_ a princess.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” a voice grumbled from the background.

“Shut up, Drake, or I’ll make sure you never speak again.”

“ _Urgh_ , enough of this shit,” Jason said. He stomped over to the other part of the room, ripping open a stage curtain. “Dick, can you please get out here and speak to your— _ahh_!”

Everyone looked up, startled by Jason’s uncharacteristic yelp. Damian glanced up in time to see a flash of something olive-toned before Jason quickly closed the curtain.

“Why are you _naked_?!” Jason said, hand over his eyes—as if that would somehow help him unsee what he had already seen. “How _long_ have you been naked?”

“I’m changing,” Dick’s voice said simply behind the curtain.

“ _Here_? In _front_ of us? Couldn’t you have done it in private?”

“That’s what the curtain is for.” A few shuffling sounds and the curtain swung back open. Dick was fully dressed in costume, from fez to park-friendly curled shoes. “So what’s wrong?”

“ _Everything_ is wrong,” Jason said, gaze pointedly averted.

“Damn, Dick,” Steph said, giving a low whistle. “I thought the baggy pants would ruin the look but that vest looks like it was _made_ to rest on that fine torso.”

“Uh, thanks Steph,” Dick said, slightly flushed.

“Dick, you have to convince Damian to wear the costume,” Tim said, getting back on subject.

“You’re not doing it?” Dick said, blinking at Tim.

“I—what? No,” Tim said, flustered. “Of course not. Someone has to stay here and keep an eye on the cameras and run communications while you’re in there.”

“Well, _I’m_ not wearing it. I’ll just… take the stupid duck costume,” Damian said, eyes settling on the white and yellow lump in the corner.

“Fuck off. I can’t fit into Aladdin _or_ Jasmine. _I’m_ Donald Duck,” Jason insisted. “Stop being an unreasonable brat and get in the damn belly dancing outfit.”

“Damian—”Dick started.

“No, _shut it_ , Grayson,” Damian said, whipping in Dick’s direction. His already thin patience had snapped. He jabbed a finger in Dick’s… very evenly tanned… chest. “I don’t want to hear whatever sappy speech you have planned about how we’re a _team_ and how we work well together—”

“They have a Rajah,” Dick said, cutting him off.

“I— _what_?”

“Remember? From the research marathon? I’m pretty sure we got far enough in the movie before you shut it off because of the inaccuracies—”

“I know, I know, it’s the _tiger_ , what _about_ him?”

“They’re going to have him at the party and since _we’re_ Jasmine and Aladdin, we’ll probably be sitting at the same table.”

At that, everyone stopped and looked at Damian expectantly.

Damian sighed.

 

There had better be at least five minutes of petting Rajah to make Brown’s torture worth it.

Stephanie whistled a little. “I hate to admit it, but you have great eyelashes. I don’t even need to curl them.”

“I have no idea what that means but you’re not putting that thing anywhere near my _eyes_.”

Damian caught Jason in his peripherals. He was mostly dressed in costume, save for the head that was tucked underneath his arm.

“Oh my God, he actually looks like a girl.”

“It’s the beauty of contouring,” Steph said proudly. “I can’t wait to send a pic to Duke.”

“You are _not_ taking pictures.”

“We’ll have video footage,” Tim said in the background, amused.

Dick poked his head over Stephanie’s shoulder. He glanced at Damian sadly. “Damian, are you sure you’re okay? You look miserable. Don’t be mean, guys.”

“You’re worried about _us_ being mean to _him_?” Jason said incredulously.

“He calls me _Fatgirl_ ,” Steph added.

“He threw me off a dinosaur,” Tim piped from the background.

“What do you mean, _am I sure_? You’re the one who insisted—”Damian started with a growl but Stephanie interrupted with a whine.

“Stop talking, I’m trying to finish your lips!”

The stuff that Stephanie painted onto Damian’s lips felt sticky—though tasted oddly nice—and afterwards, Steph sprayed some stuff on his face.

“Okay, now we just have to put your bra on—”

“Stop calling it that.”

Damian dressed into the pants easily enough, the silk chiffon felt… nice but irritating at the same time. The silky smooth texture felt good on his skin but the drapey fabric _moved_ with every step, not to mention it was slightly transparent which made him more than a little uncomfortable.

Damian wasn’t used to exposing this much skin. It was embarrassing enough having to take off his shirt during the makeup process—Brown had insisted that he be shirtless so taking off his shirt wouldn’t ruin the makeup; confusing, considering she had applied several layers of crap to his face that she insisted would keep the makeup _on_. The brassiere he just had to slip onto his shoulders and zip up and lace in the back. He felt like a child being dressed as Steph and Dick hovered over him.

“Huh. Why isn’t this working?” Steph said as she fumbled with the laces.

“Move,” Dick said, taking her place. In a few quick swoops, Dick hooked his fingers through the laces and undid them, starting over. Steph took a step back, watching.

“Dick. I have questions.”

“I was a child with small fingers in a circus. I spent a lot of time in women’s dressing rooms. Cross, double-cross, ladder, lace-up, lace-down, rabbit ears—I can do it all.”

As Dick laced Damian back up, his hands kept brushing up against Damian’s back, the direct skin-on-skin contact making Damian tense up. Steph noticed, to which she flashed Damian a quirky smile.

“ _What_?” Damian said defensively, not liking the look.

“I didn’t say anything,” Steph said, still smiling. Damian’s eyes narrowed.

When Dick was done, Steph grabbed Damian by the shoulders and forcibly turned him around. Before Damian could yell or karate chop her, Steph asked, “What do you think of your princess, Dick?”

Damian stared at Dick apprehensively, half horrified and half… curious. But Dick just gave Damian one measured look and shrugged his shoulder.

“Looks just fine to me. You did great, Steph.”

“That’s it?” Stephanie said, sounding disappointed.

“Still needs the wig,” Jason said, handing over the bag with the hair supplies.

A minute later of Steph attacking Damian’s head with a wig cap and pointy bobby pins and the wig and tiara was soon set on.

“It’s a good thing you inherited Talia’s body type and not Bruce’s, otherwise this wouldn’t be convincing at all. You look like a crossfit Jasmine. It’s awesome.”

“You should dress like this all the time,” Jason said, smirking.

“Todd, you are literally dressed as a _duck_. You are in no position to mock me.”

“What? It’s a compliment. Besides, you _wanted_ the duck costume.”

“Too bad Jasmine’s red outfit is too risqué for Disney World,” Steph said, grinning. “You do look better in red.”

“I like the blue,” Dick said.

“You would,” Jason said.

“Yeah, but don’t you think the red would be sexier?” Steph said, looking at Dick pointedly. Dick gave her an odd, but still lightly amused, look.

“Why do you keep staring at me like that?” he asked her.

“It’s 10:30,” Tim spoke up. He had finished hooking up his monitors, several rigged up screens on display. “The duchess’ birthday party starts in half an hour and you’ll need to get there in time. I suggest you start moving now. I’ve mapped out where to go—”

“It’s the building surrounded in teacups. It can’t be that hard to find,” Jason said, scoffing. He finally pulled on the Donald Duck head. “Enough chatting. We got a princess to save.”

“ _Duchess_ ,” Tim corrected.

“Whatever.”

“Don’t rub your eyes,” Steph said, pointing a finger at Damian. Damian glared at her but didn’t argue.

 

The building with the teacups wasn’t hard to find. The hard part was walking five minutes without being stopped for pictures.

Tim somehow managed to grab data on what areas had the most foot traffic. He devised a route using a combination of employee alleyways and less traversed areas to make their trip as uninterrupted as possible.

“I still can’t believe I got typecasted,” Damian grumbled.

“Oh, come on,” Dick said lightly.

“You wouldn’t be laughing if you got stuck in an Esmerelda costume.”

“I’d make a hot Esmeralda. Anyways, it was nothing personal. It was between you and Tim and you were the best option. You fill it out better.”

At that, Damian looked at Dick strangely. Dick quickly changed his words.

“I meant, like, Tim is too short. We’d have to pin everything in place.” Dick rubbed the back of his neck, adding, “If it makes you feel any better, your dad made me dress like a girl before.”

Damian’s stare just became more disturbed. “You have the strangest relationship with my father.”

“I see it,” Jason, who was a few steps ahead, spoke up. True enough, the building was just a few doors down. They hurried their steps down the back alley but then suddenly, a small figure darted out from between two buildings. When the little girl turned her gaze on them, her jaw fell open and she dropped her giant Dumbo on the ground.

“Jasmine!” she exclaimed, running towards them. A man behind her, presumably her father, picked up the abandoned Dumbo and hurried to catch up.

Damian looked at Dick for guidance, eyes laced with horror, as the girl hugged his legs.

He quickly deadpanned when he saw Dick’s glassy eyes.

“Why are you _crying_?” Damian hissed quietly, trying to gently pry the small human off of him.

“That was so cute,” Dick said softly, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Can we get a picture?” the dad asked.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Just make it snappy,” Donald Duck responded, not even bothering to mask the thick Gotham accent.

Dick happily held the Dumbo while the dad messed around with the selfie stick. As they all huddled in for the photo, Damian felt an arm snake around his waist.

“My ex-wife is going to be so jealous. Say cheese!”

Damian’s sculpted eyebrow twitched.

 

Dick, Damian and Jason managed to sneak into the building without any questions asked. The party was already in session, the banquet hall in order. The duchess was the most prominent member of the room, sitting in the middle of the head table and surrounded by presents. But it was Rajah that grabbed Damian’s attention. He nearly booked it for the tiger but Mickey Mouse and Goofy suddenly swarmed them.

“Frank! Where the fuck were you?” Goofy whispered harshly.

“You talking to me?” Jason said.

“Jesus, Frank, have you been drinking again? We told you to keep that shit away from the kids.”

“We were supposed to practice _before_ the duchess arrived, you shithead,” Mickey said, his voice furious even though the mascot head had the world’s biggest smile.

“Look, I was tired, alright? I’ve been swarmed by brats and uptight moms all day, even had some little kid almost puke on me after too many rounds of Mad Tea Party—”Jason started, scrambling for a story.

“Are you trying to fuck with me?” Mickey said in a low voice, cutting him off.

“I—what?” Jason said. The Mickey stepped in close, the tip of his nose bumping up against Donald’s bill.

“I said, are you trying to fuck with me? I swear to fucking God, Frank, if you’re trying to fuck with me—if you mess up my goddamned show—I will beat the ever living fuck out of you.”

“Hey, man, you better chill the fuck out,” Jason said, moving forward, big white belly forcing Mickey back a step. “The show will be _just fine_.”

“Well the crew is backstage. We’ve been waiting for your sorry ass all day. You're not making us wait another minute. Come on.”

“Wait, Donald is supposed to stick with us,” Dick said quickly. “We’re supposed to meet the duchess—”

“He’ll meet her when everyone else does.”

“Wait—”Dick said, sounding cross, but Mickey just scoffed.

“Look buddy, I’m not afraid of you. Your princess looks more ripped than you.”

At that, Damian raised an eyebrow. He felt strangely pleased.

“Speaking of which, since when did they start accepting bodybuilding models’ applications?” Goofy asked.

“Eh, they just look at the faces now,” Mickey said, giving a dismissal wave with his big white glove. “There’s a chubby Aurora that works the day shift. I think they’re understaffed.”

“Well, I think it’s progressive,” Goofy said, shrugging.

“Come on, Donald,” Mickey said, turning on his yellow heel, and Jason seemed to have no choice but to follow.

Damian finally got to pet Rajah. He ignored Dick’s rant, something about blah blah blah, splitting up, blah blah blah, things not going according to plan, all in favor of Rajah’s grumbly purrs. When it came down to presenting the duchess’ birthday cake, everyone was forced back to their seats.

“Ugh, these shoes are too tight,” Damian heard a Peter Pan grumble to a Wendy.

“Are you wearing the right size?” Wendy asked.

“The problem is that the shoe is too narrow at the toes. You can see my little toe bumping up against the corner.”

“Put extra padding in the point of the shoe to lift it up and even out the shape,” Dick said, jumping in on their conversation.

“But wouldn’t that just make the shoe tighter?”

“No, because your toes don’t go into the point anyways,” Dick insisted.

“Huh,” Peter said, tilting his head at his pixie boots. He then looked at Dick, doing a double take. “Oh. Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”

“We’re actually transfers from Disneyland Shanghai,” Dick said smoothly.

“You two have great figures. Does Shanghai have higher standards? How do you keep in shape?” Wendy said, tilting her head to get a better look at Jasmine.

“Crossfit,” Damian said quickly, hand still on Rajah’s head.

“Well, it works for you,” Wendy said, eyes darting back to Dick’s abs.

“Yeah,” Peter said absently, joining in on Wendy’s staring.

When it came time to sing happy birthday to the duchess, an ensemble of mascot characters took the middle of the floor for some fantastical musical presentation. It was all done very well with the noticeable exception of Donald Duck, who was missing all of his cues.

“Oh God,” the Tiana next to Damian murmured, burying her face in her hands. “Is that the drunk Donald? I thought he got fired.”

Somewhere, in the crowd of guests, Damian noticed a few bodies stand up and start moving closer to the duchess’ table. Damian elbowed Dick lightly but Dick was already on it, whispering into his hidden chip.

“Donald. You got three men to your left. Two to your right.”

Jason’s voice, panting, responded as he continued dancing in the big heavy suit. “I got it. Go guard the duchess.”

Damian stared at Rajah with a longing expression.

“C’mon,” Dick said, tugging on his arm. “I’m sure his handler will take care of him.”

Dick and Damian got as close as they could without distracting the bodyguards. The men from the crowd pulled out their guns—and that’s when Dick pointed them out.

At Dick’s shouting, the guards finally woke up and covered the duchess. Damian hurried to open up the back exit, allowing the duchess and her guards a place to escape. More staffers followed and Dick safely guarded the doors while they rushed in. When the only remaining people in the ballroom were the armed men and Jason, Dick and Damian began to close the doors. The last thing Damian saw before the doors shut was Donald Duck roundhouse-kicking some guy in the back.

Dick pulled Damian through the murmuring, panicked crowd.

“Donald’s probably going to need our help.”

“The only way out is through the doors. We can’t open them without risking letting them in.”

“Actually, the vents in here lead back out to the ballroom. Come on.”

Dick glanced around to make sure no one was looking before popping out the screws on the grate.

Damian began to hop in but Dick stopped him.

“Wait, let me go first.”

“What does it matter?” Damian said sharply, one knee still propped up on the ledge.

Dick hesitated to respond. He shook his head and quickly said, “Okay, whatever, just go.”

They crawled in the vents, reaching a fork. Dick went one way and Damian the other. Damian heard a sudden gunshot, alerting him. It was louder from where Dick was—so he started to backtrack.

He got to the end and saw Dick peeking out the grate.

“What’s going on over there?”

“I can’t quite see,” Dick said without turning back.

Damian, impatient, pushed on Dick’s shoulder, crawling over him to see through the grate.

“Damian,” Dick said, sounding suddenly alert, voice almost a yelp. “Stop doing that.”

Damian ignored him, wriggling past him through the confined area, only stopping when he felt something brush against his leg.

Damian froze in Dick’s lap. He craned his neck to look at Dick, who had buried his reddened face in his hands.

“Is that—are you—”Damian stammered, before stopping. His brain melted, his usual eloquence gone. He dragged himself off of Dick’s lap.

Well, the Aladdin pants were baggy, but they weren't _that_ baggy.

“Are you serious?” Damian said, heat rushing to his face. Not sure how to react, his natural reflex was to punch Dick’s arm. So he did.

“It's not my fault!” Dick said, rubbing his arm. “I offered to go in first and, well, your outfit doesn't really leave much to the imagination—”

Damian nearly gasped, face positively burning with embarrassment at this point. He punched Dick’s arm again.

“You weren't supposed to stare!”

“Where else was I supposed to look?!”

“Why are you acting like this? You told Brown that I looked _just fine.”_

“I downplayed it, okay?” Dick said hurriedly. “I mean, it doesn't really look like you, but you still look really good—and even though Ariel is my number one, Jasmine is still top tier—I can't help it—”

“Are you seriously trying to work your way into forgiveness by telling me that you want to fuck Disney characters?!” Damian hissed. He huffed. They were getting off track. “Forget it! We have a mission to focus on.”

Damian reached to pry open the grate but Dick grabbed him by the arm.

“Wait, I can't fight like _this_ —”

Damian’s eyes narrowed, a sudden fury spiking through him. He could fix that.

He grabbed Dick by the vest, glaring at him directly in the face. “You made me dress up in this _stupid_ outfit, I'm not going to let you ruin this for me. We're going down there and we're completing our mission. And if you don't control yourself _right now_ , I will punch you _over and over_ until you can't focus on anything but the _sheer pain_.”

Dick stared back at Damian.

His face suddenly reddened.

“I think you just made it worse.”

Damian made an indignant sound and let go of him. He went back to prying open the grate.

 

After Jason, Damian and… eventually Dick… took down and tied up all the criminals, they had to jet out of the building in order to keep their identities hidden. However, to their surprise, two people managed to follow them.

“Frank, wait up!”

“We're sorry!”

They looked back, seeing Mickey and Goofy chasing after them.

“Shit. You two go get undressed,” Jason said, shoving Dick and Damian along. “I'll meet up with you all later.”

Jason went to go talk to them. Dick and Damian continued on their way, finally ducking into a shed that Tim had closed off prior to act as a safehouse for them. A bag with a change of simple park clothes shared a shelf with a bunch of lawn ornaments.

“Seriously?” Damian said, sighing when he saw the only shirt in his size was a princess shirt. “I'm going to kill everyone once we're back in Gotham.”

As Damian was shuffling through the bag, a shadow loomed over him. Damian stopped, frowning, but didn't respond in time to the hands that were suddenly on him.

“What are you doing?” Damian said, accusatory, face flushed.

“Getting undressed.”

“I don't need help with _that_ ,” Damian said, as the hands dipped past the waistline of his pants instead of settling on his top.

Dick’s breath, hot against his ear.

“I know.”

Damian blinked, coming to a stop.

_Oh_.

 

They finally made it back to Tim, who was already finished masking Dick and Damian’s faces on all of the park’s camera footage to help hide their identities.

Tim grabbed the makeup removal wipes that Steph had left behind, handing them to Damian. Tim eyed Damian’s smeared makeup, raising a brow.

“That rough?”

“What?” Damian said, looking up from the tissue with a startled expression.

“Looks like those guys did a number on you,” Tim said, crossing his arms. He had a thoughtful look. “There were just five men but I guess they were probably well trained, to go after the duchess. And I imagine fighting in costume probably didn't help.”

“Oh,” Dick said after a moment. “I guess it was kind of rough.”

“It wasn't _that_ rough,” Damian interjected, bluntly.

“I mean, there were moments—”Dick started, somewhat defensively.

“Maybe by your standards,” Damian said, throwing away the used wipe. But he glanced at Dick. “But everything went… just fine.”

Before Tim could puzzle anything together, Jason finally caught up with them.

“Sorry I took so long. But I managed to grab a gift.”

Jason handed them each a wristband.

Tim looked down at it and then laughed. “You do realize that even with a fast pass, we're still going to be in line for _hours_?”

“Hey,” Jason said, shrugging. “It'll be fast enough to pass Duke and the girls in line and flip them off as we go by.”

“Jason, we're not flipping anyone off. It's _Disneyworld_ ,” Dick said, frowning.

“That's _exactly_ why we're doing it,” Jason said. “Isn't this the place where dreams come true?”

 

“Why would anyone want to come here? The lines are too long. There are so many screaming children. And even for someone of my status, everything is far too expensive,” Damian said, arms crossed.

“Because it's fun!” Steph said, exasperated. Cass, beside her, nodded.

“Fun,” she agreed.

“Jason. Look at this picture I took of Duke with Mulan,” Harper said, handing over her phone. Jason burst out laughing.

“Why do you look so serious?!”

“I got nervous,” Duke said defensively, shrinking in place. “Don't judge.”

Dick and Tim finally came back from the gift shop, meeting up with the rest of the group.

“Where to next?” Tim asked.

“What'd you get?” Harper said, her hand already in Tim’s bag. “Seriously? _Tron_ stuff? You would.”

“It's hard finding merch for the original movie.”

Damian blinked in surprise when a bag was suddenly dropped in his lap.

“If this is anything _Aladdin_ -related—”he began, giving Dick a warning look. Dick waved a hand dismissively.

“It's not, it's not. Just open it.”

Damian sighed and opened it up, instantly recognizing the blue ears. He pulled the giant plush Stitch out of the bag.

Damian looked into its big black eyes, his hands squishing into its fluffy middle, and an odd sense of satisfaction washed over him.

Okay.

So he didn't hate _all_ of the Disney movies.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
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